


Truth and Dare

by Kendas



Series: Truth and Dare [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendas/pseuds/Kendas
Summary: It was not that Hermione was scared of what might happen if she went through with the dare, it was that she was terrified and all too aware of what would definitely happen.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini
Series: Truth and Dare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628017
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Truth and Dare

**Beta Credit:** Tamlane who is just awesome. Thank you so much for all your help with this, hun.  
**A.N:** Inspired by a prompt which Tamlane left in response to the quiet_one’s Weekly Challenge 7. I originally wrote this as a short ficlet for her, but she made me continue it. And look - I wrote something without angst!!  
**A.N.** This isn’t new, trying to upload old works from my livejoumal that I hadn’t before. This was quite an early one.

Truth or Dare

“I’m not doing it,” Hermione declared, her chin tilted up and her face averted from the rest of the small group. There was a slight hint of pink staining her cheeks, but she was avidly avoiding admitting that fact in the hopes that if she did not acknowledge it then neither would anyone else.

Draco, meanwhile, rolled his eyes and leant back against the wall. “I told you playing with Gryffindors would be boring. Brave? They’re worse than a bunch of Hufflepuffs.”

Hermione huffed, and the blond just smirked lazily at her.

“Care to prove me wrong, Granger?”

“You can’t just not do it, Hermione. They explained the rules, remember? You’re bound to follow through or tell the truth.” Harry was looking slightly abashed and rather concerned as he leant forward and placed what she was sure he intended to be a supportive hand on her shoulder. However, Hermione just scowled at him. This was all his fault. He had convinced her it would be fun. Ron had been just as opposed to it as her. Honestly, why he had ever thought playing truth or dare, and wizarding truth or dare at that, with two Slytherins - those two Slytherins – would be a harmless way to pass New Year’s Eve, was beyond her. 

“I told you this was a bad idea.” 

That was Ron’s voice, and for a moment Hermione turned her head, meeting his eyes and wanting to hug him for being the sensible one for once. But that was before she caught the slightly sulking expression clinging to the edges of his face. Hermione narrowed her eyes, and her lips thinned. This had to be her worst nightmare. Locked up in a house, the only woman, with two quarrelling lovers, one dejected, recently single red head and _HIM._ She should have ignored her friends' _please_ and spent the holiday at home with her family, watching her uncle Frank get progressively more drunk until he burst into a traditional round of _‘I will survive.’_

“You could always default to truth instead,” the low and sultry voice belonging to _HIM_ offered. “If the dare is truly so horrible, that is.”

Hermione chewed her lip, studiously avoiding the gaze of the voice’s owner. It was not fair that he should sound like sin incarnate. Nor was it fair that an offer of a way out of the ridiculous dare she had been given should sound more like a challenge itself and somewhat more dangerous. But there really was no other way, and she was not going to do the dare. Oh no!

“Fine!” she bit out finally, still avoiding the group's gaze. “Truth.”

There was a sigh of relief to the left of her and a murmur of, “About fucking time.” She ignored the blond, but even with her face averted and trained on the shelf of books to the left of the fireplace, she could still see the predatory smirk curling on the too full chocolate lips of the man opposite her. 

She watched out of the corner of her eye with something akin to horror (and maybe just a dab of fascination) as he moved onto his hands and knees, and crawled towards her, pausing to rock on the balls of his feet when he was less than a foot away.

Hermione felt her pulse speed up and the skin on her face heat further. She could feel his eyes appraising her, slowly moving down over her body before sliding back up to her face. She shivered involuntarily and once more cursed her decision not to go home and instead willingly place herself in this current predicament. She should never have let herself be guilt-tripped into a situation where such close proximity to _HIM_ was necessary. But she had hardly seen Ron or Harry at all lately (though that was mainly because seeing Harry meant being around Malfoy, and being around Malfoy usually meant having to be around _HIM_ ). She had managed to hide the secret of what Blaise Zabini did to her only because she had spent this last year (since their quick kiss under the enchanted mistletoe at last year's Ministry ball), studiously avoiding being anywhere near _HIM._ Now one little game was going to ruin all of her careful subterfuge.

Tonight had been such a bad idea because, Merlin, he was tempting with his far too smooth skin, tall lean form and - her eyes flickered down to his lap and grazed the shape of his thighs clearly defined by the black slacks clinging tightly to them thanks to his present position. Hermione swallowed - _those thighs._ She daydreamed far too much about _those thighs._

“For your question then, tell me, Hermione -” His voice was a purr, low and seductive, drawing fantasies to the forefront of her mind of what his voice would sound like whispering illicit and crude comments against her skin as he…. She winced, hoping that was not a whimper she had just heard escape her mouth. “- what would be so truly terrifying about my dare?” His eyes once again roamed her body in a feather light caress that made goose bumps rise unbidden upon her arms.

Oh, how she hated Harry.

Hermione bit her lip so hard that she suddenly felt the sharp, coppery taste of blood hit her tongue. She cursed herself for not realising that he would choose that particular question to ask her after her reaction to the damned dare. She felt the tingle of the compulsion spell the game had placed on her increase and clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, because she really did not want to answer that question. 

A hand crept up onto her knee, wrapping around the joint and starting to rub slow circles underneath it through her jeans.

“Come on, Hermione, it’s not such a hard question. Give in. You’re a clever witch. You know that there’s no other way. Unless -” Blaise paused in his cajoling, his hand inching up the inside of Hermione’s thigh a little more as he leant in closer.

“Yes, Granger. You’re just prolonging the inevitable,” she heard Malfoy interrupt in an aggravated hiss. She just knew that his gaze was trained impatiently on Harry as he spoke. But her mind was elsewhere, focused on the puff of warm breath grazing her ear, the body that was almost aligned against hers, and the spell urging her to comply with his demand.

“- you would like to take up the dare instead?” he whispered the challenge against the shell of her ear, his mouth so close that his lips brushed against her skin as he spoke.

It was all too much. The magic was too intense. He was too close. His hand was now curling around her wrist, his thumb caressing her pulse point, likely measuring her response to him, no doubt. She was simply unable to resist the compulsion working on her any longer. Hermione felt the words tumble from her mouth in a quick hiccup of a sob. “If-I-were-to-go-into-the-broomcupboard-with-Zabini-then-there’s-no-way-I-would-come-out-with-my-virginity-intact.” Sucking in a deep gasp of breath, Hermione gave up trying to restrain the heat in her cheeks and blushed crimson whilst simultaneously praying that no one would have been able to make out the strangled admission she had just been forced to utter. 

No such luck. Any god’s that might exist had clearly abandoned her or were obviously too busy elsewhere to hear her pleas because Malfoy laughed. Loudly. 

“Still, Granger? You have to be kidding me.”

“I never got around to it,” Hermione replied weakly in an attempt to defend herself.

The scoff from Malfoy at her words was followed by a choked cough from someone whom she presumed to be Ron.

Harry, meanwhile, just stuttered as he tried to respond, no fully formed words making their way from his mouth in the process of his clear, unbridled shock and making her feel ten times more embarrassed than she had from Malfoy’s blunt taunt.

But then he spoke up, announcing in a somewhat lower, slightly huskier voice than she had ever heard from him before, “The game's over. _Finite Incantatem._ ” Upon which he stood and pulled a still somewhat shell-shocked Hermione up and from the room with a growl.

Hermione was still contemplating the humiliating consequences that would surely follow what she had just confessed when she dimly registered the door to the library slamming shut and found herself pushed against the hallway wall. She had been so distracted by her turmoil she had not even realised she was no longer sat on the polished wooden floor. It was a moment more before Hermione realised that there was a tall Zabini pressing against her and a wickedly immoral mouth ravishing her own. Whilst she tried to take in her surroundings and the position in which she now found herself, her arms hung limply by her side and her mouth moved almost automatically against the lips and tongue trying to seek entrance.

Still slightly numb, she felt the lips give up trying to breach her mouth’s defences and vaguely registered their path down the side of her neck and over the hollow at the base of her throat. It was not until she felt the smooth skin of a palm push up beneath her t-shirt and across the slight swell of her belly, born from a penchant for the odd piece or four of chocolate and warm bread and cheese, that she came to her senses. She raised her hand to slap Blaise’s face for his impertinence and cruelty in taking advantage of her forced confession.

Her hand however never made contact with the appealingly flawless chocolate skin of his cheek, for a large hand deftly caught it mid strike and pinned it to the wall above her head.

“Nice to see you’re back with me, even if it is your more aggressive side,” his deep, melodic drawl murmured against the skin of her throat, sending vibrations through her body which shot straight to her womb and began to coil and writhe relentlessly. Her hips to arched towards him involuntarily.

Shaking her head to try and clear it from the daze he had conjured, Hermione lifted her other hand to push against Blaise’s chest. “Whilst I’m sure you are finding this particularly amusing, Zabini, I really must insist that you let me go and mourn the fact that I ever agreed to that ridiculous little game.”

The hand which had been stroking and tickling her belly moved around and across her hip behind her, pressing against the small of her back and pushing her more firmly against the current source of her discomfort. Was it not bad enough that she had admitted not only the fact that she was still a virgin, but also rather infatuated with a man whose reputation preceded him? No. He had to make fun of her as well. It was at times like this when Hermione looked at him and realised what a smug, conceited tease he really was and wondered just how she had ever come to have him dominating the majority of her fantasies for longer than she cared to admit.

“Let you go?” Blaise looked up incredulously at her, and Hermione bit her lip at the predatory look which she was surely imagining in his eyes. “Oh no, Hermione. I can’t be doing that. Not when, as you yourself just admitted, I find you so entertaining.”

He leant in towards her, his breath caressing her lip, his tongue reaching out as he brushed the tip across first her upper lip and then her lower one. 

For a moment, Hermione forgot that he was just toying with her. Forgot that he was a horrible flirt and an even bigger slut. And closed her eyes, awaiting the kiss she anticipated. But then he pulled back sharply. Her eyes snapped open to find a smirk curling, no, tugging at his mouth and she felt her anger at his unfair teasing return full force. She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he cut it off with a finger that he placed firmly against her mouth, pressing it into her moist lower lip. Hermione hesitated as he ran it slowly back and forth for a moment, following its progress with his eyes as it wiped away the moisture that his tongue had left before pushing it past the skin chapped from too much time spent out in the cold winter air, and inside to stroke against the roof of her mouth almost curiously.

“As tempting as it would have been to prove your little worry correct, I think I can manage something a little more thorough than a quick romp in a cupboard for your -” he paused, his mouth drawing up into a smile that was purely wicked as he leant in and whispered against Hermione’s ear, “- deflowerment.”

His hips pressed against her, the hard length of his erection grinding into her abdomen as he removed his finger and bent down to catch her open mouth in a slow, purposeful kiss that left her wondering why exactly she had been so angry. Smiling against her mouth Blaise permitted her a final stroke of his tongue against hers. A last nip to her lower lip as he sucked it within his mouth, letting his teeth drag over the slightly kiss-bruised flesh and letting it go only to flick his tongue over it once more before he pulled away and tugged her towards the stairs. The hand still pressing against the small of her back supported his command of _“Up!”_

It was not until Hermione reached the oak door that marked the entrance to his rooms that her nerves began to return. During her journey he had kept her too distracted with his hands sliding over her arms and waist, kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders, and his voice softly instructing her as to what he was going to do to her for her brain to really be able to process the reality of her situation. It was only as they paused outside his room, and he removed the hand which had been teasingly stroking the underside of her breast through her t-shirt, leaving only the hand on her back, that she started to feel her senses coming back and a sense of panic taking hold within her.

“No,” she squeaked out, too busy condemning herself for letting things go so far that she was now standing outside Blaise Zabini’s room, love bites already blooming on her neck, to consider how weak her protest made her sound.

“Hermione?” her horribly tempting folly questioned, his eyebrows raised as he turned to attempt to catch her arm and prevent her retreat. 

She shrugged his attempt at restraint off and ducked under his arm to begin to back her way down the corridor. The further she could get away from him the better chance she had at resisting his skills of persuasion, Hermione reasoned.

“Not going to happen, Zabini. This is exactly why I refused that dare of Malfoy’s. Just because I’m willing to admit that perhaps you have this –” she waved her arms in lieu of the word that explained exactly what the wizard currently hunting her down did to her, “-on me, does not mean that I’m willing to -”

“Succumb?” Blaise purred, pursuing her with all the grace of a panther, muscles coiled and about to attack his prey. “Surrender? Submit to my terribly wicked plans for you?”

Hermione faltered in her retreat, her eyes drawn to his mouth as the words rolled from his mouth, his tongue curling around each ‘s’ as he played on two weakness she was sure he could know nothing about. 

“Yield? Capitulate perhaps?”

Hermione groaned, her eyes rolling shut and her womb clenching sharply in delight at the sound of the rarely used word spoken in his all too sexy drawl. It was wrong that he had managed with just a few carefully chosen words to push her so close to the edge that she was sure one more would make her come harder than she had ever managed with her hand.

Blaise pounced, grasping her around the waist, his hand fisting in her hair as his lips found her throat and a still sensitive mark that he had left earlier. “Subjugate? Hmm. Seems the little bookworm has a few kinks. Tell me, pet, is it the words themselves or their implied meaning that has you whimpering as if I have my head buried between your thighs?”

Hermione moaned and arched against him, his leg sliding between hers and allowing her to grind herself somewhat shamelessly against one of the thighs to which she had often found her gaze and thoughts drifting.

“I’m expecting a more coherent reply, Hermione,” he cajoled, his breath taunting her ear as he pulled her more firmly against his leg, one hand on her hip urging her to rock against him, whilst his other massaged her scalp and enticed her into compliance.

“Both!” Hermione mewled, the tension coiling between her legs now further amplified thanks to the friction granted from working herself against his trouser-clad thigh so that she felt as if she were clinging by her fingers to the edge of a precipice and about to loose her battle to stay attached. She was so lost, the stitching on her the crotch of jeans almost painful when combined with the friction from her knickers, which had been drawn between the lips of her pussy and were dragging against her swollen clit with every tug of his hand on her hip, that she missed hearing him chuckle in response. Instead she felt the vibration rumble through her chest as his mouth encircled her nipple, the warmth more evident than Hermione thought should be possible through two layers of clothing.

“I always knew you’d be fun if you would just let go for long enough. Maybe we should play with a little subjugation, pet.”

It was the combination of the implication of ‘subjugation’ and his use of the moniker that did it. Hermione buried her head into the crook of his neck, biting down on the muscle in his shoulder as she came.

Blaise held her as her orgasm swept through her, shuddering in his arms, still thrusting against his leg, her teeth nibbling on his neck like a cat might paw its owner with its claws. His smirk was more pronounced with each little whimpered aftershock that passed over her. Finally she slumped boneless in his arms, her eyes closed and her breathing evening out as if she was falling asleep. He shook her gently, dragging his tongue over the shell of her ear in an attempt to get her attention. “Wake up, Hermione. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Hermione found herself being lowered back to the floor and guided on shaky legs, her head still befuddled, back towards the oak door leading to Zabini’s room. She turned her head to smile lazily up at him as he spelled open the door, thinking only of how nice it would be to curl up in a warm cosy bed and fall asleep. Her eyes slipped closed again and she slumped slightly against the wall.

Warm full lips slanted over her mouth, prising her lips apart as hands pulled her away from the wall and through the now open doorway. 

She felt the back of her knees hit something wooden just before she found herself being turned and pressed against what she presumed was some sort of desk or dressing table similar to the one placed in her own room. As his hands slipped beneath the hem of her t-shirt, tugging the fabric slowly up her torso, the pace of his mouth working against hers intensified. When Hermione felt the material of her top slide over the curve of her breast, his left hand briefly abandoning the material to tug lightly at her nipple through her bra, Hermione decided that in all her time fantasising about the personification of Bacchus currently succeeding in his attempt to divest her of her virginity, she had completely ignored the potential of his hands. She would be sure never to make that mistake again.

Breaking away from her mouth, Blaise finally rid Hermione of her top, staring appreciatively down over her newly exposed flesh and curves, his hand quickly returning to the nipple he had so fleetingly pinched moments earlier. Hermione whined and arched her back, pressing her breast against his hand. “Such a wanton little whore for a virgin, my pet. And to think you protested so much.” His hand was gentle as it caressed her cheek and belied the harshness of his words. Before her eyes rolled closed they caught the triumphant smile that graced his face when she whimpered in response to his gibe. Some part of Hermione dimly wondered if she should not be suspicious that Zabini seemed able to read her desires so well, because the vulgarly phrased comment did nothing but heighten the arousal which she thought had been sated in the hallway. Apparently she had been wrong. Twelve months of fantasies and fumbles in the shower, staff toilets, friends’ bathrooms, and her bed could clearly not be appeased so easily.

While his one hand continued its molestation of her breast, the other slipped down, gliding over her stomach to flick open the buttons of her jeans. His nose nuzzled her still too bushy hair out of the way, and he pressed open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone, up her throat and over her jaw until his mouth was at her ear once more. “Tomorrow I think I might fuck your tits, love. I bet they would be so snug and warm pressed around my cock.” His hand flicked the last button on her trousers undone and slid inside, below the band of her knickers to cup her mound. It was all Hermione could do not to grind herself to a second orgasm against his palm as he hummed against her cheek about how wet she was, practically purring his approval to her as he slid one finger against her cunt and up inside.

“I think maybe you are even better than I’d thought. Really, Hermione, I never imagined you to be quite so kinky.”

Feeling bold, Hermione reached up and curled one hand around his neck to pull his head down so that her mouth was at his ear. She let her tongue dart out and flick his lobe before whispering huskily, “You only know the half of it, Zabini.” He grinned against her cheek, and she started to smile, only to have him turn the smile into a soft ‘ _oh’_ as his finger curled inside her in a come hither gesture. A few firm strokes, his thumb rubbing circles over her clit whilst his mouth moved back down to her breasts, and Hermione was panting against his shoulder, murmuring _‘pleases’_ into his linen shirt.

His hand pulled back sharply and he chuckled at the needy moan she let slip out.

“I don’t think so, pet,” he chastised, one hand lifting her arse as the other tugged her jeans down her legs. “Next time you come,” he promised with a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh, hands cupping the heels of her feet as he pushed the last of her jeans and knickers over them, “it will be with my cock inside of you.”

Abruptly he stood up, divesting her of her bra with a deft, obviously practised movement, before pulling her up into his arms and promptly depositing her on the bed.

He stood at the end, watching as Hermione scooted further up the bed until she was nestled against the pillows. His hand tugged his tie undone, whilst his eyes devoured her. Hermione briefly wondered at how formal he always seemed to dress even when it was just a quiet night in like tonight, whilst simultaneously following his hand on the scrap of silk around his neck. She swallowed and resisted the temptation to slide her hand between her legs at the thought of the black fabric around her wrists.

“I turned down quite a few invitations to be here tonight.” His tie finally came undone and his hands moved to the buttons of his white shirt, slow and deliberate as they plucked each pearl drop open.

“Really?” 

“Yes. Some quite important people too. They would have probably proved quite lucrative as well.” The last of the buttons came undone and he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, letting it pool on the floor.

Hermione’s mouth went dry as her eyes rested on his chest. Smooth, unadulterated dark chocolate. She licked her lips and wondered absently if it would it taste like her favourite brand if she licked it; bitter, yet sweet and silky at the same time.

His belt came off with a loud crack and he wound it around his hands for a moment, slapping the end sharply against his thigh and sending a new wave of desire through Hermione before he dropped it to the floor with a knowing smirk. Oh lord, she was depraved. 

“I knew you’d make it worth the sacrifice with just the right amount of pressure.” The last word he said slowly, pushing his trousers down off his hips and revealing the fact that he wore nothing beneath.

“Please, Blaise.” Hermione was not sure she could take much more of this anticipation.

“Patience,” he warned, fisting his erection a few times before climbing upon the bed and prowling towards her in a move reminiscent of earlier in the library. “I think we may have to work on that -” He paused at her foot, sucking her toe into his mouth and running his tongue round the digit before letting it pop out. “- pet.” His tongue swiped against the back of her knee, the inside of her thigh, along her cunt, pushing briefly inside, down into the dip of her belly button, against the swell of her breasts, along her collar bone and by the time it slid inside her mouth and coiled around her own, Hermione was near incoherent. 

“Lift your arse, pet,” he urged, pulling her up and against him, thrusting against her belly, once, twice, as he slipped a pillow beneath her bum and spread her legs so that he could settle between them. “Good girl, you take instructions so well. I suppose I should have expected that from such a little teacher’s pet.”

“Condescending prat,” Hermione snarked. She propped herself up on one elbow and curiously reached down between them to wrap her hand around his erection. She watched with fascination as the hood covering the head of his cock pulled back to reveal the something more mushroom shaped. Smooth yet so solid and hard beneath. She looked up in panic and caught two brown eyes watching her, their pupils dilated so much that only a hint of the iris showed at the edges. She could not do this. He was too thick and it would hurt too much she was sure.

“No,” she said, swallowing and trying to scoot further up the bed away from him. Oh, Merlin, what had she got into? He was staring down at her with such determination that she froze on the spot.

“Just when I was going to reward you for being so obedient. Shh. Do you think I’m going to let you out of this now, Hermione?” Growling slightly, Blaise wrapped his hand around hers and moved so that he was braced above her, his erection sliding against the lips of her pussy. “For I have to inform you that you’d be mistaken if that’s the case.”

Hermione shook her head, but his mouth caught hers and started to lull her. He was humming against the skin of her neck, a tune so soft and calming and she felt the panic start to leak out of her. She remembered how good it had felt riding his thigh, the heel of his hand and the swipe of his tongue. “Please, Blaise.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” He thrust into her hand, his head sliding against the juncture of her folds and almost slipping inside. “If I promise to be gentle with you tonight, will you let me fuck your pretty cunt raw in the morning?”

Hermione really was not sure she wanted him to be gentle after the imagery those words conjured.

His lips covered her mouth again, sucking slowly on her lower one and rolling it between his teeth teasingly. He pulled back slightly, and Hermione was certain she caught a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe you’ll let me fuck you in the library against the book shelves.”

She whimpered and tried to pull the cock still teasing her folds into her, desperate now to feel something more. However, Blaise’s hand over hers prevented her and instead she settled for looking up at him coyly and replying breathily, “Only if you’re really good.”

He chuckled and placed a small kiss on the end of her nose. “I’ll be better than good, I assure you,” he vowed, releasing the hand around his cock for a moment to retrieve his wand. 

Hermione had not even noticed the wooden shaft near her hip, but as he placed it against her belly and traced a rune she recognised from her fifth year over her skin, she was glad of his forethought. Blaise finished the rune and carefully pronounced the incantation. A soft blue light emanated from her abdomen for a moment before sinking into her skin.

“Hermione?”

“Umm.”

“You know you haven’t really got a choice about me screwing you in the library? Or at least you won’t once your hands are tied above your head and I have your complete and utter -” His lips moved in until they were upon hers. He lifted her hands one by one and placed them upon his back and then spoke the last word into her mouth. “- supplication.”

Hermione cried into his mouth, her nails digging into his back as he pushed inside her and she felt something tear. Blaise held still above her, his arms tense, his whole body visibly rigid above hers and his eyes closed so tight he was almost frowning. It felt so clichéd to say it but, now that the initial sting was lessening she felt so full, stretched and oddly complete. Hermione wriggled experimentally, trying to position herself so that her clit could find the friction it had enjoyed earlier with his hand, because now that she was getting used to him inside her, the little nub was starting to throb frustratingly. She whimpered lightly as his coarse pubic hair brushed and made contact with the little bundle of nerves, dragging against it as she moved. 

Blaise groaned above her and started to draw back, slowly pulling out until just his head was inside her before thrusting back inside with a growl. “If -” He drew back again, his eyes locking with Hermione’s as he measured her response to his actions. “- I’d known -” Another long drawn out retreat followed by a hard drive forward that caused his pelvic bone to rub deliciously against her clit. “- that you were still a virgin-” To accompany his withdrawal this time he lowered his head to flick her nipple with his tongue. “- I’d never have let you put this off for so long.”

Hermione moaned aloud and shut her eyes, submitting herself to the sensation of each careful push of his cock inside her. She could not help agreeing silently and adding that if she had known it would feel this good, she might not have been so keen to avoid him for so long. She wrapped her legs around his waist to increase the friction and dug her heels into his arse in an attempt to get him deeper.

Blaise’s hand pressed down against her abdomen, pushing into the flesh just above her pelvic bone and altering the direction of his thrusts slightly so that with each shove of his cock he grazed the spot inside her that his finger had stroked earlier. As if this new sensation was not enough, he started to roll his hips each time he slammed against her.

Hermione writhed beneath him, arching her back, the tension coiling like snakes around her womb and her clit aching so much she though she might very well cry. She whimpered his name once or twice amidst her moans, just before her body started to shake and she felt the tension uncoiling and washing over her. 

Blaise did not slow down. Instead one hand gripped her hip, the other pulling her legs up and over his shoulders as he picked his pace up. “That’s it, pet. So fucking tight. So good feeling you come around my cock like a good little slut.”

Hermione briefly wondered as she started to come down from her orgasm that, if this was him being gentle, what on earth it would feel like if he really let go. Suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and she felt him shudder within her, distracting her line of thought as she watched the emotions roll over the face that was usually so impassive. Little pulses rippled through her as he came. 

Blaise continued to thrust shallowly into her until he was completely spent, pulling out and rolling onto his back. He curled his fingers around one of her hands and drew Hermione over and onto her side, pulling one of her legs up so that it was draped over his thigh. He smiled lazily, his eyes half closed. Hermione blushed as she felt a trickle of their combined juices seep out onto her leg and most probably his too. However, either he did not mind or he simply did not notice, and she was so tired and too sated to really care herself at that moment.

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander to his comment about taking her in the library. She was not sure he had been serious about it. From all she knew of Zabini, he hardly ever stayed around long enough for breakfast with the majority of his conquests. Oh, Merlin! She was a conquest. Hermione winced shamefully at that thought. She had given her virginity up for a one night stand, and whilst it had been quite amazing and she was certain most of her friends had not had such a fulfilling experience for their first time, she suddenly felt slightly dirty and not in the good way she had from earlier.

Biting her lip, she chastised herself for dwelling on things already out of her control. She had made her decision and enjoyed the consequences. She was not going to let herself feel guilty about it.

Blaise’s breathing had evened out to a slow rhythm, and looking up at his closed almond eyes, Hermione realised that whilst she was tormenting herself, he must have dozed off. Maybe she would just kiss him goodbye, one last lick of his chest perhaps, and slip off before he woke again, thereby avoiding having to deal with any uncomfortable _‘I’ll owl yous.’_ Yes, that sounded like a good idea. It’s not like she would be running scared, she would just be making things easier on the both of them.

Should she leave a note? Hermione absently tangled her fingers in the fine black hair leading a treasure trail down from Blaise’s belly button to his groin whilst she pondered that problem. If she did leave a note, what on earth would she put in it – _Thank you so much for divesting me of my virginity. I really enjoyed it. See you around?_ No, maybe she would forego the note. He would probably not be particularly interested in it anyway.

Hermione sighed and pulled herself up from the bed, her eyes lingering longer than she would have liked on Blaise’s body. She just hoped that now she’d had a taste of him her lust for him might ease off. She had a horrible feeling, though, that Blaise Zabini was like chocolate in more than just one way and that one piece was never enough.

Walking across the room to the pile of her clothes, Hermione decided that she was still a little too sore for her jeans. Surely Blaise would not mind if she just borrowed his shirt for one night. She could leave it outside his door in the morning before she Flooed home or something. It would be quite nice, she supposed, to be able to sleep wrapped up in his scent for one night.

Her hand rested on the door knob hesitantly. She was so tempted to turn around for a last look, but she was not sure that her resolve to leave would hold firm is she did. Chewing her lower lip she slowly started to turn the door handle, cautious to make as little sound as possible.

“I haven’t finished with you yet, Hermione. I believe we have a library to discuss, pet,” a sleepy voice drawled from the direction of the bed, low and melodic and far too tempting. 

Hermione registered the distinct sound of the mattress shifting with the weight of the person upon it. She stiffened. “I thought -”

Large hands slid around her waist and pulled her back inside the room, away from the escape that the door had offered. “Sneaking away were you?”

“I just figured that you -” Hermione found her attempt at an explanation cut off once more. 

Blaise turned her, flattening her against the back of the oak door, his hands roaming her sides and caressing her breast through the shirt, his eyes following every stroke.

“Hmm. Well, I guess this was to be expected.”

“What? Me running off?”

Blaise pulled her thigh up and around his hip and slid his hand back down it to the juncture of her legs.

“No. The fact that my clothes obviously look so much better on you than your normal attire, but yes, I suppose you attempting to run away was inevitable also.” He leant in close to her ear, tweaking her nipple almost painfully whilst whispering just loud enough for her to hear, “There’s the matter of our deal, though, Hermione. You never struck me as one to run out on a deal.”

“What deal?” She could feel her nipples tightening and a fresh coil of desire working its way back into her body.

“The one where I go gentle and then you let me fuck your pretty cunt raw in the morning. Preferably in the library.” His tongue ran up the side of her face as he ground his awakening erection against her cunt. “Remembering yet?”

Hermione murmured her accord, slightly dazed by the fact that he was planning on fucking her again. Possible multiple times. And there was no doubt in her mind that it would most definitely be fucking next time he entered her. Still she managed to squeak out, “I wasn’t aware that you were particularly gentle.”

Blaise chuckled, sliding a finger inside her. “Trust me, compared to what you’re in for, that was gentle.”

Hermione managed to mewl in reply.

“Oh, and I believe some research into just how kinky you are might be in order. If I’m not mistaken, that was a challenge you set me earlier. Or do I have to trick you into another game of truth or dare first?”

“I think we could possibly sacrifice the public humiliation in front of my friends in this instance.”

Blaise smirked, pulling away and leading her across the room to the en suite. “In that case, there’s this fantasy of fucking you in the shower that I’d like to indulge in.”

Hermione nodded mutely and followed him, her eyes on his arse as she wondered how hard her nails must have been digging in to cause such marks. Maybe, she mused, smiling in anticipation, she would have to forgive Harry for earlier and thank him instead.

_~Finis~_


End file.
